


The Second Wedding

by RedStarFiction



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 06:55:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5238698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedStarFiction/pseuds/RedStarFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A piece about how things may have been on Jamie's second wedding day and how he might have been feeling/thinking. I think this will be an extended piece with more than one chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jamie pressed the trembling fingers of his right hand into his temple and closed his eyes. If he had ever doubted that the fates had a sense of humour he was seeing it now. He had always known that one day he would have to answer for the things he had done, never doubted that he would stand before the Lord and all his saints and have to be punished for his crimes. He had accepted that his retribution had already begun in many ways. Jamie had expected to live out his days mourning his love for Claire alone, tormented by his lack of knowledge of her fate and that of their child. To forever be unable to claim his son, unable to even be near him for fear of discovery. Aye, Jamie had acknowledged his punishments and tolerated them as best he could, but marrying Laoghaire was a penance he could not have envisioned.  
The previous night he had drunk until his legs could barely support his weight and then fallen to his knees beside his bed to demand some answers from God.  
“Why can ye no’ let me honour even one vow?!”  
He had raged and a sly little voice in his head had answered for him  
*You already dishonoured it by sending her away.*  
“But I didna ken I would live - that we might live…”  
*Not as clever as ye thought then, were ye?*  
Jamie had woken up on the floor, naked and shivering in the early hours of the morning and crawled into bed; bringing himself to climax at the memory of Claire, disgusted with himself and yet completely unable to stop. It had been his first conscious act on his wedding day and just another sin to add to the pile.

He had taken breakfast with his family, allowed Jenny to shave him and smarten his hair, and then excused himself to dress, which he had done slowly and methodically before sitting down and doing precisely nothing. Jamie’s stomach lurched as if he were on a ship and despite being sat down he instinctively threw his left arm out to steady himself.  
“Easy mo brathair.”  
Ian caught Jamie’s hand and clasped it between his own reassuringly. Jamie opened his eyes saw the concern written across Ian’s kind, homely face.  
“What’s amiss? Ye’ve pre-wedding jitters?”  
“Aye, something akin to it anyway.”  
Jamie nodded and Ian sighed unhappily  
“Ye ken it is the best thing Jamie, a man shouldna live out his days alone and Laoghaire needs a husband…”  
“I’m willin’ to do it Ian. Leave the peddling to Jenny, aye?”  
Jamie was looking at his hands, his body relaxed, but his voice held steel. Ian blinked like a startled owl and he took an involuntary step back.  
“I dinna mean to sell ye a wife Jamie…”  
“No? Ye and Jenny have orchestrated it sae well I thought coin must have changed hands.”  
Ian scratched the bridge of his nose, forcing away irritation. He could see the warning flush creeping up from Jamie’s collar and braced himself.  
“If ye dinna wish to wed the woman, dinna do it but ye may wish to say somethin’ now as we are leavin’ for the church within the hour.”  
Jamie looked up at Ian and for a moment the potential of a fight hung in the air between them. Ian curled his fists lightly and Jamie tucked his legs beneath himself as if to stand; but the moment passed as quickly as it had arisen and Ian stepped forward laying his hand gently on Jamie’s shoulder.  
“I wasna challenging ye mo charaid; ye have but to say the word and I will tell them the wedding is off.”  
Jamie’s lip quirked upward, the red tide receding.  
“I think my sister would ha’ a few words about that.”  
“My wife may say as she pleases, it doesna matter. No one will force this upon ye.”  
Ian squeezed Jamie’s shoulder hard.  
“I would no’ see ye unhappy, brother.”  
Jamie slumped lower in his seat. He was aware of his throat clutching at words he couldn’t articulate and his eyes burning with tears he didn’t want to shed. He shook his head helplessly.  
“Is it … Claire?”  
Ian asked tentatively and the sound of her name sent a shiver down Jamie’s spine as sudden as lightening and the reverberations of it echoed through Ian’s palm giving him his answer.  
“I’ll tell Jenny to call it off.”  
He said firmly and turned towards the door  
“Ian, wait …”  
Jamie pushed himself up and smoothed his waistcoat with trembling hands.  
“I canna leave the lass at the altar. Please … just … Help me make mysel’ as presentable as possible.”  
A couple of the tears tumbled through his lashes and he hastily dashed them away, his freshly shaved cheeks felt unnaturally smooth against the back of his hand.  
“Jamie …”  
“This is no’ just about Laoghaire and I, her girls need a father, Jenny is right about that and Claire …”  
Jamie took a shuddering intake of breathe  
“Claire is gone, I canna change it.”  
Ian’s brows knitted with worry but he knew the expression on Jamie’s face, the stubborn set of his jaw and the hard slant of his eyes. His mind was made up. Ian straightened the cravat at Jamie’s throat and nodded.  
“Weel, ye look grand.”  
Jamie smiled and ran his hand self-consciously over his plaited hair.  
“I’ve never told ye … I’m sorry I wasna here, to help ye … on your wedding day ken?”  
Ian’s eyes crinkled with the first genuine smile he had given his brother-in-law all morning  
“Dinna fash, I got my buttons in the right holes and Jenny clubbed my hair for me herself so she ken I’d no look like I’d been caught in a storm.”  
Jamie snorted, his own scalp still prickled from Jenny’s ministrations.  
“I dinna doubt that ye looked fine man, only that I wish I had stood beside ye.”  
“Aye, and ye were missed.”  
Ian said simply, bending to brush stray fluff from the hem of Jamie’s kilt and Jamie felt a sudden rush of love for his friend and brother. Ian had been a stalwart presence in his life for almost as long as Jenny and Jamie loved him just as fiercely. Where Jenny fretted and fussed, Ian was calmer, more patient. Some people mistook his tranquillity for softness but Jamie knew that Ian had a core of strength that outweighed his own in many ways.  
Impulsively he seized Ian in an embrace that stole his friend’s breathe and kissed his cheek hard enough bruise his lips.  
“I love ye mo charaid, truly.”  
If Ian was surprised he covered it well but after a moment gently disentangled himself from Jamie  
“I love ye too, but if ye crumple that shirt I canna say what will happen.”  
He cupped Jamie’s cheek lightly and Jamie realised he had seen Ian make the same gesture towards his children when they were hurt or upset.  
“Come, we’ve time for a dram or two, Jenny will be fixing hair for a time yet.”  
He grinned up at Jamie and patted the cheek beneath his hand.  
Jamie nodded gratefully, but almost immediately he thought how Claire had been at their wedding, how lovely she had looked and the faint smell of whiskey mingled with honey on her breath, and the nausea returned with a vengeance.  
“Stay here,”  
Ian gestured to the chair  
“I’ll fetch it in.”  
Jamie sat back in the chair, his hands were shaking again and as he studied them, willing them to stillness his eyes locked on the scars from Claire’s effort to save it after Wentworth.  
“Mo nighean donn… I’m whole because of you and yet with ye gone I dinna feel whole at all…”  
He whimpered, his voice catching and he hurriedly turned his hands over, breathing deeply, desperate not to lose his composure entirely. The little white ‘C’ scar at the base of his thumb stood out, bright white against his flesh. Jamie blinked at it,  
“Oh Christ …”  
He gasped and doubled over. Ian pushed the door open as a spray of vomit escaped Jamie’s mouth, mercifully missing his plaid. He set the tumbler of whiskey and the two glasses down beside him, offering Jamie a handkerchief.  
“I’ll get ye some water.”  
Jamie took the little square of fabric with trembling hands and patted his mouth.  
“Dinna bother, I’m alright.”  
Jamie poured a small glass of whiskey and swished it around his mouth, before topping up both glasses and handing one to Ian.  
“Are ye sure? I dinna mean to leave here stinking of whiskey *and* covered in vomit; one or the other is none sae bad but both …”  
Ian grinned and clinked his glass against Jamie’s who laughed weakly and downed his second drink as quickly as he had the first.  
Ian sipped his own drink and then used his handkerchief to mop up the worst of the mess.  
“Thank ye Ian.”  
“No bother.”  
They sat quietly for a while, listening to the sounds of the house around them, until Jenny called up the stairs that it was time to go. She appeared in the door way moments later, hands on her hips she surveyed the scene; her brother and husband, the half-empty whiskey tumbler between them and a puddle of something foul on the floor beside Jamie, partially covered by Ian’s best handkerchief.  
“What on earth have ye been doin’ up here?”  
“Having a wee pre-wedding nip.”  
Ian said mildly but gave Jenny a look that told her not to press the issue.  
“Aye, and that’s well and good but ye need to air yeselves out a bit and have a bite to eat. Come on…”  
She held the door open and both men obediently filed out. Jamie looked guiltily back at the mess and Jenny prodded him lightly in the back.  
“Dinna be worryin’ about that, go on now, the kitchen is brimming wi’ food and Michael is already eyeing it up…”  
As soon as Jamie was downstairs Jenny grabbed Ian’s arm and towed him into the children’s room.  
“Well?”  
“He’s a bit hesitant but he’ll do.”  
“Why? For the love of God…”  
Jenny’s exasperation with her brother’s resistance to this match was at boiling point and Ian caught her arms, gently pulling her into him until she relaxed, her arms instinctively going around his waist.  
“Ye ken why, Mo gradh.”  
“I dinna …”  
Jenny began pulling back but Ian held her steady and locked his eyes with hers  
“Claire.”  
He offered the name gently and Jenny bit her lip, a frown creasing her brow.  
“I ken he loved her …”  
“He still does Janet. That’s no’ to say this is not the right thing for him, but it’s hard, aye?”  
Jenny tugged at her skirts guiltily and Ian kissed her forehead  
“If I died, would it come easy to ye to remarry?”  
“No.”  
She admitted quietly and Ian nodded  
“Weel then, be gentle wi’ him.”  
Jenny huffed a little but Ian understood her distress. She had been a second mother to Jamie for all they were children together and her love for him was absolute. She didn’t want him to continue his lonely existence.  
“It’s the right thing my love.”  
He reassured her gently, rubbing the arms beneath his hand.  
“Claire wouldna wish him to be alone.”  
“Mmmphmm.”  
Jenny grunted and Ian smiled, pressing a kiss to her hair.  
“It’ll all be fine, a leannan. Dinna worry yeself.”


	2. Long held love.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have never diverged this far from canon before and I am a little anxious about it, but this is how I have imagined things could have been instead of how they were.

Jamie could hear the murmur of voices from upstairs, Jenny’s irate and Ian’s softer, placating her. He scowled at the scone he had selected and shoved it whole into his mouth.  
A snigger came from the doorway and he spun round to see his youngest nephew watching him and mimicking him with exaggerated jaw movements, cheeks comically puffed out. Jamie swallowed hard and grinned back at Ian. He would never admit it to anyone else but wee Ian was his favourite of Jenny’s children, the lad had a wild streak that seemed to have skipped the other bairns and he seemed to view tales of Jamie’s exploits as challenging rather than cautionary.   
“I’d like to see ye do better!”  
Jamie raised an eyebrow and threw a scone to Ian, who obligingly shoved it in whole. Jenny and Ian came downstairs to see their youngest child choking and being frantically pounded on the back, his face turning purple.   
“Ian!”  
Jenny shoved Jamie out of the way and slapped her sons back hard enough to make Jamie wince, but the lump of scone obstructing the boys airway flew out of his mouth and landed on the floor at his father’s feet.  
“Christ Mam! I think ye broke my spine.”  
Ian croaked and Jenny followed up her assault with a considerably softer slap on the seat of his breeks.   
“Dinna blaspheme!”  
She admonished and peered around him, seeing for the first time the size of the chunk of dough that he had coughed up.  
“Dear God! Did ye put it in whole?!”  
Ian opened his mouth to protest her heretic hypocrisy but caught his father’s eye and thought better of it.  
“Uncle Jamie did it first.”  
Jamie shot him a look of shocked betrayal and Ian blushed guiltily.  
“I dinna care if ye uncle did it. He’s a gob the size o’ a cave,”  
Jenny quipped, smoothing down wee Ian’s hair and straightening his jacket.  
“dinna do it again, I’ve dressed for a wedding, no’ a funeral.”  
Jamie scowled at his sister but a part of him was grateful for the insult, it was a normal interaction on a day that felt anything but normal.  
*  
They made their way to the church, Jamie sitting stiffly on his horse, the fingers of his left hand drumming anxiously against his thigh. Jenny had been horrified that he wouldn’t get in the coach and allow himself to be driven but Jamie had been adamant that he wanted to ride on his own and eventually she had relented. He needed the solitude to compose himself. Muttering ‘Je Sui Pres’ was not proving very effective against his urge to bolt and Jamie smiled to himself at the realisation that it was precisely his urge to bolt that Jenny had been pre-empting with the coach. It was an extravagance he neither needed nor wanted but it would have ensured his delivery to the church.   
*Cunning wee thing!*  
Jamie thought fondly and sighed. Everyone wanted this marriage to happen, Ian had offered to stop it if Jamie was truly adamant he didn’t want to go ahead but he knew Ian, like Jenny, thought it a good choice for Jamie. In many ways Jamie supposed they were right. Why shouldn’t he marry Laoghaire? She was a widow in need of his help and although their history had been largely superfluous to his life, they did share a clan and a culture.  
*Ye wanted to kiss her once did ye no?*  
“Aye and I wanted to be a priest once too.”  
Jamie answered himself and slapped his leg impatiently. There were reasons for him to do this, damn it! For example, there was no denying he was lonely. Sometimes he woke in the night and longed for a warm body beside him, in those moments almost anybody would do. Laoghaire was a solution to that.   
Her girls were a large part of why he had agreed to this as well. Leaving Willie behind had been more painful than he had ever envisioned and although Laoghaire’s girls were not his, the thought of two bairns left without a father resonated with him. They were nearly grown of course but Laoghaire would need help finding a suitable man for each of them and Jamie knew that his presence would make most charlatans think twice.   
*Aye alright, ye’re lonely and ye can provide a father’s presence but ye dinna love the woman! Can ye wed her when ye ken there is no love?*  
Jamie’s heart clenched as he thought of Claire. He would never regret loving his Sassenach and if she and the bairn were safe and well then all he dared hope for was already true. Hoping for a second marriage with love felt greedy and shameful. Claire was his other half; she had held the best and purest part of his soul since the day they met and she would possess it until the end of all time, when perhaps if he was lucky they might meet again. There was no point in Jamie hoping for love. In truth he was not even sure that he wanted to be loved by anyone but Claire.  
He squared his shoulders and urged the horse into a trot as the church loomed before him. Despite the chill in the air, the sun was shining and it could have been April instead of January. Laoghaire’s daughters spotted him and waved before disappearing into the church, no doubt to tell their mother he was arriving.  
Jamie dismounted and straightened his clothing, patting down his hair. Jenny and Ian’s coach drew up beside him and Ian climbed out, helping Jenny down and then coming to Jamie’s side.  
“Ready?”  
“Aye.”  
Jamie nodded and strode purposefully toward the church, not waiting for Jenny or the others. He pushed the door open and saw Laoghaire, the back of her head resolutely turned to him as she kept her gaze fixed beyond the wooden cross on the altar. Jenny appeared at Jamie’s elbow and went to move past him but he caught her arm.  
“The priest isna here yet, will ye wait outside for him?”  
Jamie asked and Jenny pursed her lips suspiciously but nodded and backed out, closing the door behind her.  
Jamie’s boots created ringing footsteps as he stomped up the aisle, irritated that he had to walk to her. He should have been the one stood there waiting.  
“Ye look bonnie.”  
He offered aware of how perfunctory he sounded; his voice was too loud and echoed in the quiet church. Jamie bit the inside of his cheek, embarrassed at his oafish conduct and unsure what to do next. Laoghaire turned to look at him and smiled shyly. The years had not been kind to her and there was little trace of the girl she had once been, but she had curled her hair and pinched colour into her cheeks and tried to look as like her sixteen year old self for him as she could. It softened his heart to see it and he cleared his throat softly.  
“Ye look beautiful Laoghaire, truly.”  
Turning to Marsali and Joan he smiled at them and added  
“As do ye both, ladies.”  
The girls beamed and blushed and for the first time Jamie felt a flicker of hope in his chest that maybe Jenny was right and this may work.  
“Did ye … procure a ring?”  
Laoghaire asked quietly. Jamie’s felt the colour drain from his face. Of all the stupid things to forget!  
“Ah diah! I … I’m sorry lass I …”  
He looked around hopelessly as though expecting a ring to materialise before him. A film of moisture covered Laoghaire’s eyes and she sniffed as unobtrusively as she could but the noise grated on Jamie and he felt the irritation return.  
“Please dinna cry. I am truly sorry and I swear I will find ye a ring as soon as we leave here…”  
“No, it’s fine, I have my old wedding band …”  
“Ye canna use that.”  
Jamie snapped, his voice came out harsher than he had intended it to and Laoghaire stopped rummaging in her pocket immediately, her body growing rigid as she fixed her gaze at a point above his shoulder.  
“As ye say Jamie.”  
She was like a statue; cold and silent in her anger and Jamie couldn’t stand it. He took a deep breath and tried to find the hope he had felt just moments before but it was gone. He looked at the woman before him and felt nothing but a vague sense of pity as he watched her fight back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her at any moment.  
“Laoghaire, I am sorry I forgot the ring. It is unpardonable of me but I promise I will make it up to ye.”  
“Ye dinna need to make up a thing. Ye forgot it and why shouldn’t ye? We’ve both dealt in rings before and look what good it did.”  
Jamie was slightly taken aback by her frankness but could see the logic, petulant as it was.   
“We could wait, for me to get a ring? There is no rush …”  
“No rush?”  
“I mean that …”  
“If ye dinna wish to marry me…”  
“It’s no’ that!”  
“Then why suggest we wait?”  
“Christ! I just…”  
“Please don’t shout at me in a church Jamie…”  
“I’M NO’ SHOUTIN’ AT YE!”  
Jamie’s voice bounced back at them from the rafters and in the silence that followed Laoghaire gave another small sniff, raising a lace handkerchief delicately to her nose.   
Jamie turned away and covered his face with his hands. How could he be making such a mess of everything? He turned back to face the woman who would soon be his wife,  
“Girls, will ye please wait outside, I wish to speak wi’ ye mam alone a moment if I may?”  
Laoghaire looked like a rabbit caught in the glare of a fox and Marsali and Joan instinctively stepped closer to her, their eyes huge with fright and Jamie felt as if he might cry himself.  
“Och no! I would ne’er harm ye mother, or either of ye.”  
He spread his hands hopelessly and Laoghaire took a deep breath of her own.   
“Alright, go on outside both of ye, dinna let anyone enter, I’ll fetch ye when we’re ready.”   
With one last look at Jamie, both girls turned left the church. Jamie could hear Jenny questioning them in the brief moment before the door closed but then there was only silence.  
Laoghaire sat down in the nearest pew and folded her hands neatly into her lap.  
“Ye dinna wish to wed me do ye?”  
Jamie remembered his words to Claire spoken so many years before. Respect has room for secrets, but not for lies. He shook his head and forced the word from his lips  
“No.”  
Laoghaire nodded quietly to herself but a few of the tears she had held in earlier escaped down her cheeks.  
“I willna embarrass ye though, I mean to keep my word.”  
Jamie said quietly, sitting down on the stone floor, his back against the altar, hands resting lightly on his knees. For the first time since she had sat on his lap and kissed him as a young lass, Laoghaire found herself looking down at Jamie Fraser.   
“Ye word? Och Jamie. What good is a word? I didna agree to this because I wanted obligation. I wanted love. I thought the marriage meant that ye loved me.”  
Her voice trembled but didn’t crack and Jamie felt absurdly proud of her for it.  
“I’m sorry lass. I canna offer ye love but I dinna expect it in return either.”  
“I do love ye though Jamie, I have always loved ye. Or at least I love the man I hope ye are.”  
Jamie felt utterly wretched and shook his head mutely.  
“Laoghaire, I am almost certainly no’ that man anymore. I dinna even ken for sure that I once was,”  
His eyes met her gaze and held it. She looked so tired and it occurred to Jamie that the years had not been easy for her either. They had both had their share of loss and heartache and disappointment.  
“I am what I am. But I promise that when we wed I will provide for ye, and ye daughters. Protect them from harm and make sure there is food on the table for them.”  
Laoghaire’s mouth twitched in what could have been a smile  
“Aye, I always ken ye’d be a good father, it’s cruel that ye ha’ never had bairns of ye own but … I canna marry ye Jamie.”  
Jamie felt his mouth drop open and he gawped at her for a moment. Laoghaire laughed and shook her head.  
“I’m sorry, I dinna mean to laugh at ye. I owe ye a kindness Jamie, ye saved me from a beating once and the shame that would ha’ come with it,”  
She smiled fondly at the memory, the first time in her life that she had felt special and wanted by a man  
“I couldna save ye from the Sassenach witch, she was a bad match for ye and I tried to stop it but … I can save ye from this.”  
Jamie recovered himself slightly and stood up.  
“Claire wasna a witch…”  
“Dinna speak her name to me. I canna speak wi’ ye about her Jamie.”  
Laoghaire crossed herself and Jamie fought back his anger with some difficulty  
“Aye, fine.”  
“I will no’ marry ye, but ye can act as Godfather to my daughters. Their actual godfather died in prison alongside their Da and I dinna ken if ye are supposed to get a new one but who’s to say different?”  
Jamie thought for a moment and then nodded.  
“It would be an honour but I canna leave ye at the altar.”  
Laoghaire stood up and smoothed down her skirts  
“Then I’ll leave ye instead.”  
Jamie would never know what possessed him to do it but as Laoghaire turned to walk away he caught her hand and kissed her knuckles, gently. Her hands were so different from Claire’s, rough and swollen from hard work but in that moment she reminded him of his wife, his Sassenach, in a way that no one else had in years and he could not articulate his gratitude with words.  
“Oh! Thank ye Jamie.”  
Laoghaire clutched her hand to her chest as if to preserve the feel of his lips, and hurried away from him, leaving him alone in the church.   
Jamie tugged the ribbons out of his hair and smiled to himself as Jenny’s voice, high-pitched with indignation floated through the closing door.   
He knew he couldn’t stay in Lallybroch anymore; but in truth he no longer wanted to.  
He sighed and made his way back down the aisle, ready to face his sister’s wrath and then start again.


End file.
